All We Can To Save It
by Drednort
Summary: The Tomorrow People find out about the existence of an American family that seem too good to be true. What is the sinister secret behind the Brady Bunch?
1. Introduction

_The Galactic Trig_

_Just prior to __**One Law**_

"John? May I speak to you for a moment?"

The young man looked up from the briefing papers he was studying and saw the most recent addition to, and oldest of the Tomorrow People walking towards him. For a second he thought she was in uniform, but then realised it was simply the way she wore the civilian clothing she had selected from the Trig's stores.

"Hallo, Tricia - or Federation Agent Conway, I suppose I should call you, now. Congratulations. What can I do for you?"

"I've heard that you're going back to Earth, John - that the Council has approved it. I just wanted to say goodbye before you go. And thank you."

"Tricia, why don't you come back with us? You don't have to stay on the Trig - you'd be welcome at the Lab with the rest of us."

"No, John. You know that isn't true. You'd all do your best not to hold my past against me, I know, but it would cause a strain. And there are other reasons as well."

John looked at Tricia in concern. "What other reasons?"

"I'm not sure I'd be able to function on Earth - as a Tomorrow Person, I mean. John, I failed to break out for so long because I was torn between two loyalties - to my country, and to what I am inside. I've tried, I've spoken to Elizabeth and Timus but I can't reconcile the two. I can serve my country or I can be a Tomorrow Person. I don't know how to do both. And I don't want to choose."

She turned to look out a window at the great expanse of the Galactic Trig. "Up here, I don't need to choose. I can do what I believe is right without having to face the prospect of failing in my duty to my country. So John, while I appreciate everything you have all done for me, and the way you have accepted me, my place isn't with you. It's here."

John nodded. "I understand. But there'll always be a place for you with us if you want it."

"I know." Tricia smiled for a brief second and then her face turned serious. "I came to give you something as well."

"What?"

John found a small key ring with a single key pushed into his hand.

"Colonel Masters gave me this about a year ago. He told me that if anything ever happened to him, I was to go to the place written on the key ring and open up the security box I found inside. He didn't tell me what was in it, but he seemed to think it was significant. I got the impression he thought that someone might harm him because of the information in that box. John, could you please, just for my peace of mind, check out that box?"

John looked at the key. "Of course, what harm can it do to look?"

"Thank you, John." With that, Tricia turned on her heel and began to walk purposefully in the direction of her headquarters.


	2. Chapter 1

_The Lab_

_ After the events of _**_One Law_ **

John san into a chair and looked across the link table at Liz.

"Do you understand what we've got ourselves into?"

Liz looked up. "Pardon?"

"With Mike, I mean. He's so . . ."

"So what?"

"I'm not sure, precisely. Raw, perhaps. He doesn't seem to think things through. That stunt he pulled getting Lord Dunning arrested. I understand why he did it, but it would have been so much easier if he'd talked to us first."

"Would you have agreed to let him do it?"

John shrugged. "Probably not."

"There you are, then. To Mike, that wouldn't have been acceptable. I think, Mike has a strong sense of justice and injustice. He wanted to see Lord Dunning punished for what he had done. He knew you'd say no, so he didn't ask."

"How do you know so much about it?"

"John, I work with kids like Mike every day. Most of them are pretty good kids deep down inside. I'm sure Mike is. He's just a diamond in the rough."

"Well, I certainly agree with half that last statement, Elizabeth."

Liz smiled tolerantly. "John, with someone like Mike, you need to take things slowly. He'll come through and do the right thing on his own. You don't need to stand behind him looking over his shoulder, you just need to give him a chance to do the right thing."

"How can I do that, Liz? If I just let Mike go off and do things left, right, and centre, he could get himself into a lot of trouble. What he does can and will affect us. I can't afford to let him deal with anything too critical without supervision. You or Stephen, certainly, maybe even Tyso - you can all be trusted. But not Mike."

Liz stood up and walked around the table to John. "You have to trust Mike, John. He isn't an idiot - he'll be able to tell if you don't and he'll resent it. Isn't there something simple you can give him to do - something important, but not complicated. It will show him you are willing to trust him, and will allow him to prove to you that he can handle responsibility."

John thought for a moment, and then felt in his pocket. He drew out a small key on a ring.

"All right, Elizabeth. We'll try it."

_*Mike?* _

_*Yes, John?* _

_*When you have a minute, could you please pop over to the Lab? I've got a job for you.* _

_*I'll be there in a minute, John.* _

_*Thanks.* _

True to his word, less than 30 seconds later, Mike appeared on the jaunting pad at the back of the Lab.

"Yes, John?"

John handed over the key. "Mike, could you go this address and see if you can find a box somewhere inside that that key opens? There might be something important inside there, and I'm too busy to go at the moment."

"Sure. What do you think is in there?"

"I don't know - maybe nothing, maybe some papers. Possibly something connected with government research into us. But I don't really know."

"OK. I'll go." He turned to climb up onto the jaunting pad. John put a hand on his arm.

"Mike, be careful, OK. We don't know what might be there."

"OK, John. I'll watch my back."

Mike disappeared from sight.

* * *

He reappeared in a small laneway just behind a group of houses in Greenwich. Mike looked down at the address on the key ring in his hand. He wandered between two houses and into the street, and began walking up the road until he arrived at the house he was looking for. He looked past the hedge at what looked for all the world like pictures he had seen of London after the Blitz - there was nothing but rubble in the garden, and no sign of the house that had once stood there. A sign proclaimed that the block of land was for sale, and by its dilapidated appearance, it had been for quite a while.

Mike pushed his way past the rusty gate and walked down what must have once been the front path. The garden was overgrown and bricks, loose or in clusters still mortared together lay everywhere. He approached the bulk of the rubble, marking the site of the house and tried to work out what to do. How did you search a house that wasn't there?

Still, John had asked him to do it, so he may as well have a look. He circled the ruins and was rewarded by finding a circular metal manhole cover. He lifted it and looked down into the darkness of a cellar below. The only light was that which came from the round hole he had just uncovered.

Mike dropped down into the hole, and immediately went head over heels as he discovered that the ground was covered in coal, rather than being the single solid floor he had expected. He picked himself up, sneezed and realised he was covered in black coal dust.

"Oh great, Mum is going to murder me."

He looked around and saw a square shape in the corner. Mike slowly picked his way across to it, and discovered a safe - a metal box with a door and a single keyhole.

He placed the key into the lock and turned it. He was rewarded with the click sound that indicated that the bolts had shifted. He swung the door open and inside there was a single manila envelope.

He opened it, and found a paper and what felt like photographs, but it was too difficult to see clearly. So he jaunted back to the Lab.

* * *

"I've got it, John," he proclaimed excitedly as he descended from the jaunting pad. He thrust the folder at John, who took it carefully, frowning at the black marks, Mike's hands had left on the envelope.

"Let's have a look, then."

John opened the folder and slid out the sheets. A series of photos, eight people in all. A man and a woman, three girls and three boys.

There was also a single sheet of paper stamped 'TOP SECRET' in red ink, underneath that the words 'Operation PEPPERMINT TROLLEY', and containing nothing but a list of names. John read them out.

"Michael Albert Brady, Gregory Brady, Peter Brady, Robert Brady, Caroline Brady (_nee_ Martin Tyler), Marcia Brady, Janet Brady, Cynthia Brady."

Nothing else. John looked across at Mike.

"We have to work out who these people are and why they are so important."


	3. Chapter 2

_The Lab _

Mike looked up at TIM.

"Do the names mean anything to you, TIM?"

"One moment, I am checking . . . Yes, Mike, they do. I have found a reference to a marriage of a Michael Albert Brady to a Carol Martin Tyler in Los Angeles in 1969. I have also found possible references to several of these people in Los Angeles news computers. Marcia Brady recommended her stepfather, Michael, for an award in 1970, a Peter Brady was acclaimed as a hero for pulling a young girl away from being crushed by a falling wall. Two children named Cindy and Bobby Brady became lost in the Grand Canyon. These same two children later attempted to set a world record in 'teeter-tottering' . . ."

"In what, TIM?" asked John.

"In riding a seesaw, John. It appears that all these people are members of the same family and the names correlate closely with those on that sheet of paper.

"I have also gone online with the computers of several television networks in Los Angeles, and have discovered that members of this Brady family have appeared on television on several occasion. The Americans seem to maintain archives of much of their television. Would you like me to try and find some of this footage?"

"Can you do that, TIM?" asked Mike.

"Of course, Mike. Since it recently became clear that there might sometimes be benefits in being able to access even the most obscure television footage, and I was unable to do so, I used the time that the others were away at the Trig to develop a capacity to retrieve old television programs from archives around the world."

"Does that mean I could get you to show me all the episodes of Doctor Who one after another?" asked Mike, eagerly.

"Unfortunately, Mike, not even I have that ability. I suggest you speak to the Time Guardian, Peter if you ever meet him. He may be able to help."

"Peter?"

John interrupted. "Never mind all that - can you find us some of this Brady footage, please, TIM?"

"Certainly, John."

Mike and John turned to look at TIM's video screen. A studio stage covered with yellow drapes and a sign that said 'The Pete Sterne Amateur Hour' appeared. Standing on the stage, attired identically in blue trousers and white tops were six kids aged from about ten to sixteen years of age. Three blonde haired girls, and three dark haired boys. They launched immediately into a song and dance routine. Mike and John stood watching studying the kids. When the song finished, Mike muttered something.

"What was that, Mike?"

"Oh nothing, John."

"It must have been something - did you notice anything?"

"All I said was that I should move to America - if those kids can get on the telly, I'll be a rock star in no time."

"Well, for once, Mike, I agree with your assessment of music. But did you notice anything?"

"No, they seemed fairly normal to me as well."

"TIM, did you see anything unusual?"

"Only that it appeared that the middle boy, Peter, had no power to his microphone. I was able to detect the speech patterns of the others, but as far as I could tell, while he was definitely singing according to the movement of his mouth and larynx, no sound was being detected by his microphone."

John moved over to the table and picked up the photographs. "It's definitely them, though. So the question we need to ask ourselves is why did Colonel Master's keep the photographs and names of these people locked in a safe, and why is the list of names classified Top Secret?"

"What was that about Colonel Masters, John?" asked Stephen who had jaunted into the Lab, while they were talking.

"Hello TIM, hello Mike."

"Hello Stephen. It may be nothing. Tricia gave me a key on the Trig and told me Masters had given it to her. Mike's just checked it out and all we found were these photos and this sheet of paper. The people exist - TIM's tracked them down in California, but we haven't any idea why Colonel Masters was interested in them. Maybe we should check it out."

Mike piped up. "Can I check it out? Please, John."

John almost said no, almost said it was too dangerous. But then he thought about what Liz had said, and reconsidered. There was no real reason to expect danger, was there?

"OK, Mike - see what you can find out. Just be careful."


	4. Chapter 3

_Woodlands Park, Westdale _

Mike stood underneath the shade of the tree, and watched the two boys throw an American football back and forth. He'd identified them from their photos as Peter and Bobby Brady. Both boys had dark hair, both seemed fairly normal. They looked alike, but that was understandable. They were brothers after all. He knew they were about 14 and 16 respectively, although TIM hadn't been able to find any record of their birth. Or that of their eldest brother, Greg. The births of the three girls, Marcia, Jan, and Cindy were documented normally, however.

The younger boy missed the football and it rolled almost to Mike's feet. He picked it up, and threw it to Peter.

"Hi."

"Hi." Peter looked him up and down. "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new to the neighbourhood?"

"Yeah, just moving in, this week."

"Are you English?"

"Yeah, that's right. I suppose the accent makes that a bit obvious. I'm from London."

"Oh right." Peter and Bobby looked at each other, seemed to reach an agreement and then at Mike. Peter spoke "Want to join in?"

"Sure - but I don't know the rules."

Bobby spoke for the first time. "Oh, that's OK, we'll teach you."

Mike took up position at one corner of a rough triangle and for much of the afternoon, threw a ball backwards and forth with the other two boys. When they had a short rest, he engaged them in conversation.

"So what's it like around here?"

"Pretty good - do you know where you'll be going to school, yet?"

"No, my parents haven't worked that out. I'm sure they will, though."

Bobby asked a question. "Why did you move here?"

Mike thought quickly, "My father's job."

"What does he do?"

"He's a salesman. He sells kitchen supplies - you know, for big kitchens like in hotels and things."

Peter nodded, "Our Dad's an architect."

"Yeah. You got any brothers and sisters?"

Bobby spoke this time. "A big brother - Greg, and three sisters, Marcia, Jan, and Cindy."

"Big family."

"Pretty big, yes." The conversation ground to a halt. Mike tried to work out what else to say. Suddenly Peter and Bobby jumped to their feet.

"We've got to get home. Maybe we'll see you tomorrow, Mike."

"Maybe." Mike watched the two boys run towards Clinton Way throwing their ball back and forth. He tried to analyse his feelings. There was something . . . different about those kids, but he couldn't say what it was.

* * *

He was at the park the following day when Bobby and Peter turned up and after a morning of playing ball, he accepted their invitation to lunch at their house. They walked through a small gate into the back garden of the Brady' two storey house. Mike observed the most immaculate lawn, he had ever seen, and they passed into the house through a pair of sliding doors with clearer glass than he had ever encountered. The house was spotless in all respects. In the kitchen were three people. A housekeeper of some sort, middle aged and attired in an immaculate blue dress, a blonde haired woman wearing slacks and a sweater who he was able to identify as Mrs Carol Brady, and a bespectacled blonde girl sitting at a table reading. This was obviously Jan Brady.

Peter made the introductions, "Mom, this is Mike, Mike, this is my mom, Alice, and Jan."

Mrs Brady smiled. "Hello Mike. You must be the boy whose family's just moved into the neighbourhood. We'll have to meet your parents at some stage and welcome them. What's your address?"

Mike hadn't considered this. "Um, somewhere in Sierra Avenue - I can't remember the number, we've only just moved."

"That's all right, I'm sure we can find out later. What's your surname by the way?"

Mike cast around trying to think, deciding giving his real surname might not be a good idea. His eyes settled on the glass next to Jan's book. "Glass. Mike Glass."

"Well, Mike, go up with the boys and wash up before lunch."


	5. Chapter 4

_The Lab_

"I'm telling you, John, the Brady's add new meaning to the word Sap. They are, without doubt, the sappiest Saps I've ever met. Do you know what we had for lunch? Milk, cheese sandwiches, and an apple."

"That sounds like a perfectly nutritious and suitable lunch to me," replied John.

"Yeah, it would. It wasn't so much the food, John. It was just a feeling I had - that this is the type of thing that they eat every single day and they've never considered anything else."

Elizabeth looked over at him, "Mike, you can't read too much into a feeling. Intuition is fine, but there's a limit to what it can tell people - even Tomorrow People."

"I know, Liz, but there's more to it than just that. It's everything about them. The way they talk, the way they act, the way that Jan kept staring at me the entire meal, all sorts of things. They don't seem to have normal bodily functions."

"How do you mean, Mike?" asked Liz.

"Well, there doesn't seem to even be a toilet in the entire house - and they can't jaunt! It's positively goofy."

John raised an eyebrow. "Goofy?"

"Oh no, it's contagious! Now I'm speaking Brady. I'm telling you, John - those kids are weird. The whole family is weird."

"Well, you might be correct, Mike. I'd say that you were seeing things that weren't there except for one thing - we know Colonel Masters took an interest in the Bradys which suggests that there might be something strange about them. I think we need to look further into this family and find out more. Any ideas, Mike?"

"Well, I know Peter and Bobby pretty well, so I can probably try and get more information out of them. But Greg, the oldest of the boys, he's at College, and I really don't think I'm old enough to talk to him."

John looked over at Stephen reading in a corner. "Stephen, could you try that?"

"Sure. I was getting bored anyway."

Stephen walked over to the jaunting pad and was gone. Mike continued.

"There's the parents - maybe your or Liz could try and talk to them. There's the maid, Alice . . ."

Liz spoke up. "I'll talk to her."

". . . the girls, of course, and there's a little kid named Oliver who's only moved in with them recently. He's their cousin and he's . . . strange. He's like the rest of them - too good to be true, but even more so."

John nodded. "All right. I'll try and talk to Mr Brady - he's an architect so I'll go to him as a client. Liz is taking Alice - I think you'd better talk to Mrs Brady as well. The girls . . . I'm afraid you might be the best choice for that, Mike, as you seem to have made an impression on Jan already. And try and find out more about this Oliver, OK, Mike."

"Sure."

Mike stepped up onto the jaunting pad and was gone. As soon as he was gone, Liz spoke.

"John, I know I suggested you give Mike something to do - but are you perhaps putting too much on him? Now, he's checking out three of the boys and all the girls. Couldn't Tyso do the girls?"

"No, I don't think so - have you seen what he's been wearing lately. He'd probably frighten the girls if they saw him. Not to mention frightening their parents."

"I suppose you're right."

* * *

_State University, Los Angeles_

Stephen stood next to the doors waiting for Greg Brady to come out of the cafeteria. So far he hadn't found out too much about Greg - he seemed universally admired, and had been described by two people as a BMOC - an abbreviation whose meaning eluded Stephen.

The young man stepped out, and Stephen looked him over. He was older than in his photo, but it was definitely the same person - the only noticeable change was a small scar above his lips, presumably caused by a shaving accident.

Stephen stepped towards him, and deliberately stumbled into him, causing Greg to spill his coffee onto the ground.

"Oh Gee. Look what you've done!"

"I'm sorry. It was an accident. Let me buy you another."

"No, that's OK, you don't have to do that."

"No, I insist, Greg."

Greg looked at him. "Do we know each other?"

"No, we haven't met - but I've seen you around. Come on, let me buy you a coffee."

Greg preened at being recognised. "Well, OK, why not?"

They moved into the cafeteria and sat down with coffee.

"I'm Stephen - just moved over from England. I'm an electronics student."

"Greg Brady - premed."

"That's not all you do, is it?"

"No, I suppose not . . ."


	6. Chapter 5

_The Lab_

Stephen was pacing. "I'm telling you, John. He doesn't seem human. No one could be as gifted as Greg Brady. He's cut a record, appeared on television several times as a singer, he's a marvellous athlete - expert at surfing, American football, baseball. He's a photographer, a writer, and now he's studying to be a doctor. There seems to be nothing he hasn't done, and isn't good at. And girls keep throwing themselves at him!"

"You sound jealous," said John with a wry smile.

"I'm not - well, not really. But I find it hard to believe all he told me."

"Well, maybe it isn't true?"

"No, it all checks out. Besides he's a Brady," Stephen pulled up short with that comment, and then continued slowly. "John, remember how Mike said he had a feeling about the Bradys?"

"Yes."

"I've got one too - I've managed to convince myself after only nine minutes with Greg, that he's incapable of lying. And not only that - that his whole family is, and I haven't even met them!"

"Now, that is interesting. TIM, have you any ideas what could create such a phenomenon?"

"I do not have enough data to arrive at any firm conclusions, John," answered the biotronic computer.

"If forced to speculate, I suppose it is possible that the Bradys might be able to somehow influence the beliefs and behaviours of those around them."

"How would that be possible?"

"I don't know, John. As I have said, it is merely speculation."

* * *

_Phillips Architectural Services, Los Angeles. _

"Please come in, Mr Smith, and sit down. How can we help you?"

John sat down at the desk, and looked up at the smiling man moving to sit down opposite him. He noticed some papers on the desk which said something about the CIA but he was unable to see precisely what they said.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me at such short notice, Mr Brady. I realise it may be inconvenient."

"Not at all - and please call me Mike."

"I'm John."

"So what can we do for you, John?"

"Well, I've been sent over by my firm to look over locations for our American offices, and also to talk to architects about the possibility of designing it. You came highly recommended."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that, John. What do you have in mind?"

* * *

"They're right, TIM. There is something eerie about the Brady's. I made a passing mention to a photo that Mr Brady had of his children on his desk, and he told me about them for hours."

"That must have been of interest, surely, John, as we are trying to find out more about the family."

"Which is why I sat there and listened to all of it. It was one of the most boring experiences of my lives. Talking like that can't be natural."

TIM spoke chidingly to him. "Perhaps you are overreacting, John. It may have been normal paternal pride. After all it is natural for a man to be proud of his children and to tell others of that pride."

"No, that was nothing like this. It was so . . . artificial. It sounded like he was talking about an artificial family, a created one - as if he was hiding something behind a facade. No family could have all those things happen to them or deal with their problems so easily. No - I think it's pretty clear that what he was telling me wasn't true, it can't be real.

"And yet, I'm just as certain that a Brady cannot lie . . ."

* * *

_East Elm Street, Westdale _

Alice walked out of the small shopping market and towards the bus stop. She was weighed down with grocery bags. In Wedlock's Bookstore, Elizabeth saw a chance. She walked out of the shop and also walked towards Alice. As she got behind her, she used a touch of telekinesis to rip the bottom of one of the grocery bags. Unfortunately the wrong one. That bag contained eggs which didn't just fall to the ground but actually broke as well, spreading their gooey whites all over the pavement. But not everything broke - several bottles of milk survived the fall, and Liz bent down to help Alice pick these up.

"What a mess," she said in an exaggerated working class accent. "Such a pity, that your eggs are all broken."

Alice smiled. "Well, you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs. Although, I wasn't planning on making an omelette." She took the bottles that Liz had picked up, "No point in crying over spilt milk is what I always say."

She moved to the bus stop, and Elizabeth sat down next to her. Alice looked over at her.

"Are you new around here - I don't think I've seen you before?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, I've just moved to the area. I work for a British company called Cleanphone. I go around offices and clean phones for a living."

Elizabeth noticed a brief flicker of interest in Alice's eyes. "That sounds interesting."

"Someone has to do it. What do you do for a living?"

"I work as a housekeeper for a family called the Bradys."

"Does that take up a lot of time? You seem to have a lot of groceries."

"They're a big family. Nine people all together, now." "Goodness - you must need a lot of rest. What do you do on your days off?" A bus pulled up to the kerb, and Alice stepped on to it.

"Days off? I don't take any."

The bus pulled away.

* * *

_The Lab _

"I spoke to one of her friends and they confirmed its true. Except for a few occasions when she has gone out with a local butcher, Alice doesn't seem to take any time off. What type of person works 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and doesn't take any time off."

"John?" asked Stephen.

"I'm serious."

_*So am I*_ telepathed Stephen to Mike, who stifled a laugh.

"The more we look into this family, the stranger and less real they seem," said John. "Mike, did you find out anything about those girls or about Oliver?"

"Well, I haven't spoken to the girls yet, but Oliver is a little sex maniac - it's all he talks about, sex, sex, sex."

Tyso poked his head around the corner, "Did someone say sex?" They all ignored him and he returned to his reading.

"Jan is also a bit strange. I think she has a crush on me."

"Now, that is strange," teased Stephen.

"That's enough, you two. Mike, I think you need to talk to the girls - even Jan."

"OK, OK, I'm going." Mike stood up and walked to the jaunting pad like a man going to his execution.

* * *

_The Brady Home, Westdale _

"Hello, Mrs Brady. Peter asked me to drop around today."

"Oh, hi Mike. I've just sent Peter down to the store. If you want to wait in the family room, he should be back soon. Would you like some milk and cookies?"

Mike came within a micrometre of telling Mrs Brady precisely what she could do with her milk and cookies, and it was only the overwhelming Bradyness of the house he was in that allowed him to control himself.

"Uh, no thanks - I'm full." He walked into the family room and was rewarded with the sight of Cindy, Jan, and Marcia sitting side by side on the couch, sewing what looked like a giant quilt. He had never seen the three girls in such close proximity before, and was astounded by how alike they were. For a second he thought there were three Marcias on the couch.

All three girls looked up at him. They really were close identical except in age. All of them had hair of gold like their mothers, the youngest one in curls. Jan had glasses, but in general he would have been hard pressed to tell them apart. He felt his rate of pulse rising as he sat there looking at them, and realised that just their presence was having some sort of effect on him. Under their gaze he felt as if they were all looking directly into his soul, and he felt as if his very presence was a smear on their unblemished characters. The girls were staring at him, with a look of . . . hunger in their eyes. For a second he felt as if they must be attracted to him, but then he realised that the look of hunger was precisely that - it seemed that they wanted to devour him.

He leaped to his feet, just wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

Marcia looked at him. "Mike, are you all right? Aren't you staying?"

"No . . . No, I can't. Something suddenly came up." He ran from the room and as soon as he was out of sight, jaunted back to the safety of the lab.

* * *

_The Lab_

"That's it. I'm not going back there, John. It's just too dangerous for me. Those girls are maneaters - REAL maneaters."

"Calm down, Mike. We're not going to make you go anywhere," said John.

_*Great plan, Elizabeth*_ he continued telepathically.

_*Later, John. We need to deal with this.*_ John nodded. "I think we need to sort out once and for all exactly what is going on. We haven't really spoken to Mrs Brady yet. I'll go."

Mike leaped out of his chair, "No, John. Please. If you are going to talk to a Brady female, please don't go alone."

John looked at the fear on Mike's face. "OK. Stephen?"

"It might be better if Liz went - don't you think?" asked the younger man.

"All right."

John and Liz jaunted across the Atlantic.


	7. Chapter 6

_The Brady House, Westdale_

John and Liz walked up to the front door. Before they could knock or ring, it opened and they found themselves confronted by Alice.

"Please come in, Miss M'Bondo, Mr Smith."

"How do you know our names?"

"All will be revealed."

The two Tomorrow People walked into the house. They were instantly confronted by a second Alice.

"This is my cousin, Emma. We need to talk to you. The Brady's have gone out for a bike ride. They will be gone awhile. I suppose you found out about them from Colonel Masters?"

"We found a file, yes." John had decided to be straightforward.

"He should never have got that information," said Emma. "Typical SNAFU. Of course, he should have told us about the Tomorrow People as well - it seems Colonel Masters felt a need to protect you from our tender mercies."

Elizabeth spoke. "You seem to know who we are. Perhaps you could tell us who you are."

The identical women removed cards from their pockets.

"Alice Nelson, USSIA, and Major Emma Nelson, Department of Defense."

"I see," said John. "Spies."

"Intelligence Agents, yes."

"Who are the Bradys?"

Alice asked "If we tell you, will you leave them alone?"

"That depends," said John.

"On what?"

"On whether the Brady's are dangerous to life on Earth? Or if they are in danger."

"Fair enough," answered Emma. "The Bradys are the result of two experiments - or three depending how you look at it."

Alice continued, "The three girls are a product of an attempt to combine human genetic material with that of aliens, obtained from the Tunguska crash of 1908. It was a successful attempt - the girls share an empathic bond and an ability to dominate men around them and cause them to become attracted to them. You wouldn't believe how many boys have a crush on them. When they are older, there'll be nothing they can do. Oliver, who's just arrived to live here, is the first male result of the experiments - the aliens were all female, and it was more difficult to produce a male."

"The boys," said Emma, "are human - but they have been genetically engineered to be the best of their species. When fully mature, they will be smarter, stronger, and healthier than the bulk of humanity.

"The Brady's themselves, Mike and Carol - well, Carol is the girls natural mother - they don't know who their father is. But Mike was selected by the government to raise the boys. If they are going to be the best of humanity, they wanted them to be educated ethically as well. Mike's an expert in ethics and morality.

"They were two separate experiments until the late 60s when the government cut our funding. We had to monitor the kids closely, and it was becoming very expensive. Other things had more priority - the Apollo program, the Vietnam War."

Alice continued. "I'd been observing the boys closely for years - I love them like my own, and when I heard the government was planning on cutting our funding and because they were afraid the boys might be dangerous without surveillance, killing them - well, I tried to find an alternative."

"I was on the periphery of the girls experiment and we got the same news. No one on either project wanted to see that happen, so we managed to persuade the government to save money by funding one surveillance rather than two," explained Emma.

"The kids aren't dangerous - the boys have been raised to be highly ethical creatures, and the girls will lose much of their abilities after puberty. But they do need to be watched."

Elizabeth asked. "Do the children know what they are?"

Alice nodded. "Greg and Marcia do. The others are still too young. We don't want to frighten them - you, of all people, should understand why. The government doesn't like them, doesn't trust them and might decide to hurt them one day."

Emma sighed. "We'd like to get them out of the country, but the government keeps a watch on the ports and the airports."

A phone rang. Alice moved to answer it.

John looked at Emma. "Maybe we can help. We could get you out of the country by other means."

Alice walked back. "That was Lieutenant Damon. The Brady's are coming back."

Emma looked at John and Elizabeth. "Do you mean that? Would you help us get the Bradys to safety."

John and Liz looked at each other and then at the two women. "Yes."


	8. Epilogue

_Brisbane, Australia_

The evacuation had been extremely quick. After the Brady's return home, they had been able to pack in less than an hour - Alice, in her fear, had always kept things organised for a quick escape. It took a short while to transport 11 people halfway across the world, but now Mike and Carol knew their family was relatively safe from the US government for the first time.

John and Liz said goodbye and jaunted back to the Lab. Mike and Carol Brady stood looking out at the sea.

"We're safe."

"I know. I can't believe it."

"Now we can do what we've always been afraid to before - have a baby together."

"Yes, I'd like that."

Mike Brady looked out to sea. "I hope it's a boy - we'll call him Adam."

* * *

_Here's the story of a lovely lady_  
_Who was bringing up three girls of pretty face_  
_All of them had DNA, not from their mother_  
_But from an alien race _

_It's the story of a Sap named Brady_  
_Who was busy with three boys, not his own_  
_They were genetically enhanced human beings_  
_And they were all alone. _

_Till one day, when the scientists got together_  
_With the spooks over an expense account lunch_  
_And they decided one surveillance would be cheaper_  
_So they ordered the formation of the Bunch _

_The Brady Bunch,  
The Brady Bunch_  
_That's the way they became the Brady Bunch._


End file.
